Page 337 of Playing the Pucking Game

My head spins with possibilities.

“Go on,” I find myself saying, my curiosity getting the better of me. I still don’t look up at him, though. It’s easier if I pretend that he’s not really there or talking to me.

“I need a chef. I’m looking for?—”

“Oh, no. I’m not a chef. I’m not even trained. I don’t know what I’m doing, really. I just—” A gasp of shock cuts off my words as he wraps his fingers around my wrist and turns me to look at him.

“Your food is incredible, Freya. And more than that…I…uh…I trust you.”

I stare up at him as his words repeat in my head. There’s a small frown pulling at his brows as if he’s as shocked by them as I am. But he doesn’t take them back.

“Y-you think I could?—”

“I don’t think, Freya. Iknow.”

His confidence in me throws me for a loop. I haven’t experienced that level of confidence or trust in…a very, very long time. And he doesn’t even know me, not really.

“I promise you, if you cook like you have tonight, I’ll be a breeze to work for. I’ll pay you well, and you’re only required to work when I’m in town. When I’m away on road games, your time is your own. It’ll allow you to study,” he offers, clearly having done some digging with my friends.

“I…um…I don’t know what to say.”

Reaching behind him, he pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask, staring down at it as if it’s about to bite me.

“An offer,” he states, moving it closer, encouraging me to take it.

Hesitantly, I reach for it. The second I open it and stare down at the figure scrawled across it, I start laughing.

This has to be a joke.

Why would anyone in their right mind want to pay me this kind of money to cook for them?

“Shit,” Cole curses. “Is that too low?”

He snatches it back, and before I can say anything, he’s scribbled the figure out and doubled it.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shriek. “That’s insane. I’m not worth that.”

He stills, his eyes meeting mine. Something happens in that moment of eye contact, but I’m too lost in everything that’s just transpired to try to figure it out right now.

“You’re worth every single cent and more, Freya. Say yes,” he begs, before tagging on a single word that stops me from walking away from this crazy offer. “Please.”